Something Simple
by ImaginaryImagery
Summary: Trying to survive in a post apocalyptic world, questioning every move he makes.
1. Something Simple

My fingers touched the sun's rays, dancing in the warmth that the star gave me. Grass tickled every inch of my body I left exposed. My hair lay strewn, weaving itself with the green blades like lovers should lay together. The air was stale though, like something wasn't right. But was it wrong? After the war, nothing was the same, not even the air. Ash fell like rain and pleasantries were something of the past. Everything lay in ruin, and at night you could hear the decrepit buildings moaning in the wind. Though that was not uncommon to hear at night now adays. Everyone is so lifeless, hopeless, that rebuilding our civilization was pointless. Not many people scurry about the city anymore, every day more die of depression, illness, or murder. A world that I would wish no one to live in. But here I am. A young man with my life ahead of me, a life that is now in shambles. Before all of this happened I was a 4.0 student attending Princeton for Philosophy. I had a great relationship with my parents (rest their souls) and about to be an uncle to a lovely baby girl. I wasn't even able to legally drink yet when everything happened. Didn't miss out much though, I mean who drinks legally anymore?

My days are now spent fighting for my life, trying to find food, shelter, something to keep my mind occupied. But what am I really fighting for? There's literally nothing here for me, I have no one left. But I go about my routine to stay for something. I don't know why, but there's something that's keeping me here and I'm determined to find it. Since the world plummeted into chaos, there's actually been many rules set into place.

1.) Never go out at night.

2.) Never talk to anyone, even if you used ot know them.

3.) Never walk on the main roads.

4.) Keep dressed in dark clothes, so no one will notice you.

5.) Never get caught by the Nuovo Re.

6.) Keep any food hidden.

Live by these rules, and this new world doesn't seem that bad. One catch, I break all of these rules, but it's because I can get away with it. While some are pitying themselves, others are trying to revive the dark world. Crime is at an all time high, but is it really crime anymore? With no one to stop us, there's no rules we are really breaking. Laws don't exsist anymore. So us, the children of the underworld, live however we can. Some have even taken on jobs again. Hitman, drug dealer, body guard anything that is needed now. As for me, I'm an escort. I get pulled aside by people asking me for just one night. This world doesn't produce the sluts it used to hold, most of them died in the first few days if they didn't perish with the initial blast. So it's my job to keep everyone happy in their own sick pleasures. But hey, it pays doesn't it?

The echoes of my footsteps bounce off the walls of this alley. Eyes are glowing around me, watching every muscle move as I pass them by. Any normal person would have shit their pants and runs. But I'm safe, and I know no one would ever dare touch me. A smirk sneeks it's way across my lips, because here, in one of the deadliest places, I feel like a god. This doesn't last long though. A shadow grips my arm hard, dragging me to it's dark lair that lie inside an old door. Greasy lips attack my neck and strong arms lock me inside. I found my client. I let a chuckle escape me, deeply regretting it moments later. My cheek starts throbbing, a smack echoing through the empty room. The man is screaming at me, shoving me into a wall as profanity assaults my ears. Though none of it really touches me. By now I'm numb to this kind of abuse. It's my job to take it and I'm starting to actually like it. And that's what scares me most.

The rain is pouring through the shamble I call a roof. Buckets strategically placed to try and minimize the damage. My knees are drawn to my chest, my arms loosely hugging them and my head lays against the rotting window frame. The rain is soothing, something that hasn't changed in this wreck of a world. My body is aching, throbbing, and bruises are starting to rise on my skin. Closing my eyes, I can only hear the pattering of drops as they hit the building. Not only is my floor getting soaked, but my cheeks are as well. Nostalgia fills me and I start to miss everything I once had. This loneliness is starting to break me, no friend of any sort for almost a year starts to get to you. Having no one to talk to can drive you insane, but rising above that is a daily feat. I won't succumb like most of the others have, ending their suffering with a bullet through their skull. My thoughts are suddently haulted by a large crashing sound coming from right outside my door. I quickly wipe away all tears and rush to my feet, being cautious not to make any noise (which is hard to do with the squeekiest floor known to mankind). The noises continue and it was then I realized something was trying to break in. I would only hope it was a normal human, but every now and then you'll run into a mutant freak. Knowing my body was much too sore to fight anyone off, I surveyed my empty little room to find a hiding place. Now the problem here was my room is empty, literally only a mattress on the floor. My best bet is to hide behind the door and pray to whatever watches over our pathetic little souls that I won't be found and hopefully whomever it is will think no one lives here anymore. This is where my second problem arises, in the rush of panic, I forgot how loud the floorboards actually were. Running to the back end of the door wasn't the best idea because one board devcided to wail to my visitor outside. This only made the noises grow, and quicken. As soon as I heard my location being given away, my heart dropped. All noises suddenly went quiet, and I could feel all of the blood drain from me. They knew I was here, they wanted in. They wanted me. I had no help to fend this monster off, and I couldn't even squish a fly if I really tried. The door was ripped from the hinges, and I lost all control of mobility. The hall was dark, but I could see its eyes, golden and piercing. There was no emotion but rage. This was no normal human being.


	2. Less Lonely

Faye ran by my side, giggling as the grass brushed her sides. For me, it only would reach my hips, but all of the grass slowed me down. I was determined to win. Although I always won when I raced against Faye, she had short legs that were unconditioned and couldn't carry her far. In our even younger years, she would complain about how fast I was and cry every time she lost. So, I started going easy on here, slow down and even let her win sometimes. Our goal was always the half dead oak tree that stood tall in the middle of this golden field and the winner always received the loser's deserts after dinner. But something seemed strange that day, everything was eerily quiet. Faye didn't notice this with her youth and enjoyment with the brand new day, I couldn't ruin her good mood (that or she'd tell me I'm worrying too much just cause Dad left). So we both went about our day, though my gut told me not to. It told me we needed to leave as soon as possible.

My consciousness kept fading in and out, images from that day were being mixed with this inhuman creature ripping the oxygen from my body. Seeing her childish face smiling at me, to this monster drooling over my imminent death, the mash of faces sickened me. How dare he even touch her in my thoughts! If I wasn't so weak I would rip him apart (or at least try) and teach him never to touch her again. But his strength was overwhelming and I could feel myself fading away with every second that passed with his grimy hands around my neck. This is it. I finally stopped fighting it, closing my eyes and letting a smile dance on my lips. It won't be too bad right? At least I'll get to see her again. At last I wouldn't have to fight so hard to survive any longer, I could be at peace.

When I woke up, I expected pearly gates with hundreds of the most beatutiful people cloaked in the purest whites all cheering that I had finally arrived. All of that was really stupid because me and "God" didn't get along very well. But I was surprised by what I did wake up to. A brick hard bed in a half burnt room without a door, and the infamous bounty hunter, Tristen, sitting at my feet. Any normal person would probably shit their pants right there, but I'm not any person. We had met once before, when I walked in on him decapitating my client. But why was he here now?

He glanced back at me, eyes stone cold that it almost shook my core. One deep breath and I sat up, the pain starting to fill my body, especailly my neck. Trudging on, I leaned against the wall that I shoved my bed up next to and mustered up the courage to look him back in the eye.

"What is it you want?" I said proudly (because I didn't stutter or waver at all).

But he said nothing. "Why are you here? And where did that... thing go?"

Still nothing.

I sighed, "Okay, fine. I didn't even want to know."

"You know it's not safe to question everything. People with knowledge are dangerous and often killed by the Nuovo Re." His voice was low and mysterious, almost irresistable.

"I don't know about you.. But I'm not afraid of the Nuovo Re."

He frowned, his brow coming together, "You work for them?"

"You could say that." I chuckled, looking away from him now. I couldn't even take myself seriously. "At least tell me if that thing will come back."

"No." With that he stood, kicking the corpse once. The massive thing jiggled with the contact of Tristen's boot.

That's impossible.."How...?" The confusion swimming in my voice.

He just shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite from mine, crossing his arms and watching me like a dog. "So who are you?"

"Knowledge is dangerous." I remarked, still staring at the body in disbelief. I heard a click and snapped my head to looks at the hunter, only seeing down the middle of a barrel.

"Don't use my words against me." His expression was so heartless that chills running down my spine was an understatement. My mind was racing of what to say next. If it were witty, there might be a hole in my skull, but if it were sincere, the results might be the same. Then again if I didn't produce some kind of answer then I would be facing that bullet none-the-less.


End file.
